


The Road to Darkmount

by Plugs



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Graphic Injury, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Medical Procedures, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plugs/pseuds/Plugs
Summary: The road to Darkmount is not paved with good intentions.Prowl wants to protect what remains of the Autobots, Motormaster doesn’t know what he wants anymore.
Relationships: Prowl/Motormaster
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Motormaster - capture

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a nice story. Motormaster does not understand consent, Prowl is torn between hating and pitying Motormaster in light of what is revealed later in this fic.
> 
> This is set in an au where the war never left Cybertron. The Autobots are loosing a bloody and slow war.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motormaster captures a valuable prize.

“Come on, he’d enjoy it!” Barricade grinned in the dark. “Bet he's never been fucked.”

Prowl was tied up with thick metal cables around his ankles and wrists. His white plating was stained with oil and ash from the skirmish in the long abandoned streets of Iacon. One wing hung limp. He was pretty, all curves with thick war armour to bulk him out.They’d found him with an easily dispatched group of guards trying to run under the cover of night from the Autobot’s latest defeat. Prowl looked his captors in the optic. 

Motormaster struggled to meet that gaze. His tanks had started to feel weird soon as they’d captured the mech. He should be happy because Megatron would be happy. Capturing the Autobot second in command would win him and his team great favour.

“I won’t tell anyone, it’ll be out secret,” Barricade said. “I’m your friend right? I listen to you about your idiot team don’t I? I care about you. Don’t you trust me?” Barricade sighed. “...Guess not.”

“Shut up ‘Cade.” Motormaster grunted. “...you really won’t tell?”

“Never.” Barricade smiled. “Not even if Optimus Prime had his axe at my throat.”

Motormaster’s tanks turned again. He was gonna fuck a pretty mech he should be happy. He was sure Megatron would let him keep the mech—after Soundwave had got information from him of course.

Prowl’s blue optics narrowed. His damaged wings twitched and he grimaced. But his eyes never left Motormaster’s.

“On your back— _now_.” Motormaster said.

Prowl complied. He lay down and opened his interface panels opened immediately. His valve was bared and his spike extended quickly. His face defiant and eyes piercing as they locked with Motormaster’s.

“See? He wants it,” Barricade said. “And the way that spike popped out? Perhaps I was wrong, looks like he’s been fucked plenty.”

Prowl was so beautiful. Motormaster wanted him. He wanted to fuck him until his tanks felt better. Until he remembered he was a Decepticon, the King of the Road. Megatron expected better from him, expected him to take what he wanted.

Motormaster walked over to Prowl and lowered himself onto Prowl’s spike. He’d thought the size difference would leave him unsatisfied but it felt good. Prowl groaned softly and turned his head to the side. Motormaster reached and turned Prowl’s face. “You kept looking in my eyes earlier. Don’t tell me you’re shy,” he chuckled.

Motormaster moved. It felt good. So much better than the quick messy stuff he did with the other Stunticons. He moaned with pleasure and started moving faster. Prowl was panting, optics bright and vents hot. Prowl kept his eyes tightly shut.

Pain twinged in his valve. Motormaster moved off Prowl’s spike. He put a servo between his legs and it came out pink with energon. “I don’t...this isn’t...”

Motormaster looked at Barricade. His hand was between his thighs, rubbing at his slick valve. Barricade smiled.

This felt wrong. Motormaster saw Barricade’s optics run over him with lust and it felt _wrong_. Then Barricade’s optics ran over Prowl and it made Motormaster feel something else.

 _Rage_.


	2. Prowl - Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl looses something.

Prowl was in pain. Dimly, he knew he’d been raped. The fact he was being carried over a shoulder with his damaged wing slowly tearing off his back was the second thing he realised.

Prow screamed.

“Don’t do that! I don’t wanna drop you,” someone grunted.

His rapist.

A ligament in his wing snapped and it began flapping freely in the wind held on by only a few wires. Prowl’s vision whited out for a few seconds. His wing clattered to the ground and Prowl watched it shrink into the distance as Motormaster ran.

He must have fallen offline because the next thing Prowl knew he was in a dark abandoned building. Possibly a habitation unit from the size. Prowl was sat leaning against a wall. His back burned in pain and his wing...was gone. Prowl closed his optics and vented. He couldn’t hear the mech. But given the effort that had put into brining him here, it was unlikely he would abandon him.

He knew from battle reports and intelligence that the mechs name was Motormaster. A gestalt commander known for brutal violence and little else. If the other Decepticon soldier had not opened up his bumper and severed his com-unit, Prowl could simply call for rescue. If his HDU was accurate, his severed wing line was bleeding without slowing.

No one knew he was here. The Autobots would not be able to organise a search party when his absence was noticed. If Motormaster abandoned him or failed to give him proper medical care Prowl would deactivate. He would die in a rusty room _alone_. Prowl’s vents quickened despite his knowledge that the heightened fuel pump speed from panicking would cause him to bleed faster. Death was inevitable. He was—

—Light streamed into the room.

“I’m back. I brought medical stuff and fuel,” Motormaster said as he opened and closed the door. He pulled a battered medical kit out of subspace and opened it. “When mechs get injured Hook puts bandages—“

“T-that will not be sufficient,” Prowl stammered. “The major lines need to be clipped cauterised first.”

Motormaster frowned. “Uh. Cauterised..yeah sure.”

Prowl vented. “...You do not know what that word means do you?”

“Look I ain’t a fragging medic but I’m trying!” Motormaster growled. “I’m trying to help you!”

Prowl grit his teeth. “Yes. Of course. Cauterised and clipped means you must stop the flow of the major energon lines in my missing wing with clips, then melt the ends to stop the bleeding.”

“Then I wrap em up in bandages right?”

“Yes. That will help prevent further damage—please hurry.” His fate in the hands of a mech with no medical experience...his fate in the hands of _this_ mech. Prowl closed his optics and waited for the pain.


	3. Motormaster - healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Motormaster is an adult, the language he uses to describe his sexual relationship with Megatron is intentionally written to reflect an abusive age and power dynamic.

Motormaster liked Prowl’s voice as he guided Motormaster on what to do. He sounded calm...except when he gasped or hissed in pain. “I’ve fixed it right?” Motormaster asked.

“Yes,” Prowl replied quietly. “That was a good job considering a lack of prior experience.”

Motormaster found himself smiling. He cleared his vocaliser. “Was the actual...fragging good? Lord Megatron gets me to spike him. But I’ve never used my valve...wanted to wait for someone special.”

Prowl’s optics paled. “what.” He said.

“Yeah. You’re special,” Motormaster felt fluttery in his tanks. “Your optics are so—“

“Megatron orders you to...interface with him?” Prowl looked sick.

“No he doesn’t order me. He says I’m special. Mature considering I’m the youngest officer. So it’s like...a reward when I’m good,” Motormaster explained.

Prowl still looked ill. Was it because he’d lost energon? Motormaster remembered being nauseous after losing a lot of it in the battle of Polyhex.

“I’ve got fuel. That’ll help you.” Motormaster pulled two cubes out of subspace. He put one down and held the other out for Prowl—Motormaster’s ration looked hilariously small in comparison to Prowl’s hands.

Prowl closed his optics. “I do not wish to fuel currently.”

“But you’ve lost energon,” Motormaster said. “If you don’t drink it you won’t feel better.”

Prowl laughed. It...wasn’t a nice laugh. Something about it was frightening. “Energon will not make me ‘feel better’ Motormaster. Nothing you can give me will.”

“I don’t understand!” Motormaster slammed the cube down. “I made your interface feel good! I healed your wounds and brought you fuel! Why are you treating me like slag?” His optics stung and Motormaster rubbed at the irritation.

Prowl’s remaining wing twitched. “I am sorry. I...I will drink the fuel. Please do not hurt me.” He picked up the oversized cube and began to sip from it. “Thank you for the fuel.”

Motormaster frowned. “Yeah. No problem.” he picked up his own cube. “In the morning we’re gonna drive closer to Darkmount.”

“I...” Prowl looked sick again. “I am not sure I drive while injured. I will need a few days of—“

“Don’t worry,” Motormaster said. You’ll go in my trailer. I’ve done it with the other Stunticons when they get hurt.”

Prowl’s wing twitched and he winced. “My alt mode is unlike theirs. I may not fit—“

Motormaster laughed. “You’re a civilian frame. Ain’t no way you’ll be too big. You worried I won’t be a careful driver or something?”

“I...have reviewed footage of your gestalt and...I do feel uncertainty in regards to a journey along what will likely be poor terrain.” Prowl frowned. “I am surprised they are not present.”

Motormaster sighed. “I’m on punishment duty. Sent me to pick up off Autobot stragglers after the battle. Wouldn’t let me do any real fighting—my team are back at Darkmount getting overcharged probably.”

“To sacrifice a gestalt in battle to punish a single mech...” Prowl shook his helm. “I do not see the logic in such an action.”

“Me neither!” Motormaster said. “Starscream is fragging glitched. Said cause we’re wiping the floor with you we ‘Bots we don’t need the army’s full power. All I did was punch one of the Constructicon’s for stealing my slag.”

“That sounds excessive for a physical assault, surely brig time would be enough?” Prowl replied.

“Yeah! An’ How was I supposed to know I was gonna rupture his fuel pump an’ put him in a coma for a few weeks. Ain’t my fault Scavenger breaks easily,” Motormaster growled.

Prowl coughed. Or choked. Motormaster wasn’t sure.

“I...suppose not,” he said. “But I—I do not wish to go to Darkmount. I will...” Prowl vented. “We can interface as...as much as you would like if you do not take me. Spike or valve.”

Motormaster felt nauseous at the thought of more interfacing. He didn’t know why. Prowl was pretty, he was offering himself up. He wouldn’t have to use his valve again...but Motormaster didn’t think he _ever_ wanted to use it again.

“Might wanna try get some sleep,” Motormaster replied. “I’m driving us to Darkmount tomorrow.”

Megatron would know what to do with Prowl. then everything would make sense.


	4. Prowl - blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although mechs in this universe are built and onlined as adults, what Prowl recalls briefly in his past could be seen as analogous to csa.

Motormaster had dragged two recharge pads from what must have been a berthroom. Prowl now knew for sure this had been a habitation units main room. Iacon’s half destroyed streets lit by luna-2 could be seen though the grubby windows. Prowl didn’t want to think about the dark stains on the walls and he certainly didn’t want to lie on a dirty recharge pad next to Motormaster.

He’d pretended to sleep until Motormaster’s vents slowed and his optics closed. Motormaster was foolish enough to think he wouldn’t be attacked in his sleep. This spoke of poor training and foolish pride. Odd for a mech clearly sparked in war. Or he really trust Prowl that much because of whatever twisted infatuation he imagined?

Prowl pulled his vibroblade from subspace, it’s dull light and soft hum a contrast with its deadly cut. A gift from Jazz he had never thought he would need to use. Tacticians didn’t fight on the frontlines, they stayed at a safe distance. Not that it had been safe enough.

He moved closer to Motormaster. Prowl’s missing wing stump throbbed and his whole body hurt. Because of this mech he’d been violated. _Again_. The first time, all those years ago, he had told himself one day he’d be strong enough to never be hurt like this again. A newbuilds naive wish.

Motormaster snored softly.

Prowl brought the blade to Motormaster’s throat. The cabling and major lines gleamed in its light—it could easily sever Motormaster’s whole helm. Jazz had told him killing with your own hands was hardest the first time...but it got easier. 

_‘He says I’m special. Mature considering I’m the youngest officer.’_

Prowl’s hand shook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have adequately tagged this work, but if I’ve missed anything so far, let me know.


	5. Motormaster - sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken me a bit but here’s a new chapter. Enjoy.

Motormaster didn’t know what to think of the faded image captures of mechs on the walls. He’d barely noticed them when he’d carried Prowl inside. He had only thought of shelter for them both.

That night the dead mech had crawled out of the walls and grabbed him. Their bodies suffocating him as they screamed and begged for mercy.

Motormaster woke from his dream with heaving vents. He sat up and looked around the empty still room

“Prowl?” He called.

Nothing.

“Prowl!”

Motormaster could hear something muffled by the walls. It sounded like sobbing. He followed the noise into the abandoned berth room.

“They were killed in their sleep. A family died here,” Prowl whispered. And you threw their bodies onto the floor and stole their mattresses like they were nothing.”

“They’re long dead and won’t care,” Motormaster said. “Thought you’d run away. Injured mechs don’t survive out in the ruins long you know.”

“Yes. I know.” Prowl barked a laugh. “Perhaps I should have left then.”

Motormaster felt something cold and tight constrict inside his chassis. “D-don’t talk like that!”

Prowl snarled. “I will not pretend be happy for you! Rape me, kill me. But do not expect me to take joy in it.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Motormaster said softly. “I don't want you to die.”

Prowl shook his helm. “I find that hard to believe.”

Motormaster growled. “Well that’s your problem. My problem is lugging your aft to Darkmount. So we’ll leave this place and get on with it.”

Prowl nodded. “Yes. I would rather get this over with.”

* * *

Motormaster was careful with Prowl in his trailer. He kept to theroads that were the most intact. He didn’t know Iacon well so they had to backtrack a few times, but they finally made it outside of the city at midday.

They continued in silence as the drove though the dust plains. Motormaster searched the landscape with his sensors and the fractured data net to find a shelter for the night.

The warm light of the suns began to die, and the sunset made Motormaster uneasy. The bruised purple made him think of a rusting wound.

“Why are you so afraid of Darkmount anyway?” Motormaster asked.

“Once I arrive i will be hacked by Shockwave. Then I will be killed.”

Motormaster laughed. “Nah they won’t kill you. You’re second in command, like you’re valuable as a hostage. Or if you changed sides—“

“No. To both of those. Our prime is dead and the Autobot’s would never be so foolish as to bargain for me. Or try to rescue me.”

“Then you should become a ‘Con if they care so little for you!” Motormaster growled. “Why the frag would they abandon you?”

Prowl’s engine revved. “Because I will be dead. Because the resources and risk required to save me would not be worth—“

“—You deserve better,” Motormaster replied.

“As your idea of better included raping me I am not sure I want your ‘better’,” Prowl said bitterly.

Motormaster nearly hit his brakes in horror. Rape? Prowl thought he’d been raped?

“But...” Motormaster struggled to find the words. “Rape. That means mechs scream no. That’s why they call it ‘forced’ an’ slag you didn’t say no and I didn’t hurt you.”

Prowl sighed. “It does not matter. Have you found shelter yet?”

“I see an abandoned fulling station. I’m gonna speed up a bit, my sensors say theres a dust storm coming,” Motormaster said.

Prowl didn’t respond.


	6. Prowl - blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And another new chapter. I might go back and rework some of the earlier chapters but we’ll see.
> 
> Warning, a character contemplates suicide. And has a PTSD flashback to a suicide they have witnessed. Severe disassociation also occurs after the event.

Another night in another abandoned structure. Another night Prowl let Motormaster live.

He knew he’d never directly killed anyone, but Prowl couldn’t understand why it was so hard. His orders had killed the enemy or got his mechs killed. Surely this would be the same?

Caring nothing of Prowl’s internal conflict the dust storm raged on. Such storms could flay paint and erode internal mechanisms. But this fuelling station stood strong. Long past were the days it fed long distance haulers as they traveled Cybertron. 

To Prowl those days felt like another lifetime. The sound of Motormaster’s snores as he slept next to Prowl shouldn’t have been reassuring. But it reminded him of that past.

Prowl wouldn’t get rescued by his Autobot’s but he did not deserve to be saved. The Iacon battle he had sent his own mechs to their deaths. Onslaught’s brutal assault had taken him off guard long enough for Devastator to smash though his mechs. 

His vibro-knife sat heavy in Prowl’s subspace. He couldn’t kill Motormaster. The information in his processor could expose the remaining Autobot’s hiding places or their communication channels.  
Jazz and his mechs would be threatened let alone remaining solders.

Prowl wondered for a moment how the vibro-knife would feel on his wrists. He couldn’t imagine the pain despite knowing how mechs screamed when they ended their lives like that.

He’d watched Bluestreak die like that. 

The storm raged. But now it sounded like screaming to Prowl. Sobbing. Bluestreak’s blood was dripping down his chassis—Prowl felt his choking vents—Ratchet was trying to separate them—He—The—blood.

Purple eyes met Prowl’s. “You okay?”

“I am fine.”

“Yeah. That’s why you’re shaking and have optics brighter than luna-2.” Motormaster reached out his servo and began stroking Prowl’s shoulder. “I do this to Breakdown when he works himself up. Helps him know where he is and that he’s safe.”

Prowl wanted to laugh and he was already crying. He decided that appreciating the horror of the mech who raped him attempting to comfort him could come later. 

“See. It’s working,” Motormaster said. “Breaky convinces himself mechs are reading his thoughts. Doesn’t help that Soundwave can read processors—so do you know what we do?”

“What?” Prowl asked. He watched his body lie on the makeshift berth. 

“If Soundwave is around Breaky we all think of the nastiest weirdest interfacing slag we can loud as we can. Once Dragstrip thought about Starscream and Megatron fucking on Soundwave’s work station and I swear he flinched!” Motormaster laughed.

“Oh,” Prowl replied as he looked down at his body. Was his plating really so dull and brittle?

“I think my team will like you. I can’t wait for you to meet them, we got some of the best rooms in Darkmount since I captured that medic.”

Prowl fell and crashed back into his body. “Which medic?”

Motormaster frowned “Dunno. Grumpy old fragger though. Hook hates him.”

Ratchet still lived? If Prowl could visit him before Shockwave he could wipe all confidential data in Prowl’s processor. Ratchet wouldn’t like the idea but he’d accept it to protect the Autobots. If Prowl didn’t get over his fears and ended a life before they reached the fortress.

“Anyway. Look I know you’re scared about Shockwave but he doesn’t have to hack you if you tell him first. An’ I can ask Megatron if I can claim you.”

“Yes,” Prowl replied. “But first I will need to visit a medic—leaving my wing damaged would upset me.”

“Yeah. Slag. I’ll take you to one when we get to Darkmount. It doesn’t hurt too bad right?” Motormaster’s worried optics might be endearing under any other circumstances.

Prowl’s wing hurt constantly. The snapped nerves misfiring and the damaged protoform healing—if he didn’t get his wing repaired soon the replacement would never have the same sensor capabilities as the original.

“I...want to go to Ratchet. I trust him. I have heard unpleasant things about Hook,” Prowl said.

“If he hurts you I’d kill him,” Motormaster growled. 

“I do not want Hook to treat me,” Prowl said firmly.

Motormaster frowned. “You won’t just run off with Ratchet? I’ve heard about ‘Bots escaping together and leaving us to clean up the Cons they kill.”

Prowl forced his servo to Motormaster’s face and cupped it. His hand looked comically small next to Motormaster’s cheek. “Please. I...I have decided I will stay with you in Darkmount. But only if Ratchet treats me.” 

Primus. Prowl knew he wasn’t good at this. Jazz would have had Motormaster driving him back to the Autobot base by now. Jazz wouldn’t have even been captured in the first place. 

Motormaster’s engine rumbled. “Fine. But I don’t wanna loose you. Ever.”

“I...” Prowl grit his teeth. “I do not want to loose you.”


End file.
